Once Again
by ternsnake
Summary: Shuichi and Gin playing their little game, but it doesn't work out as planned. Don't know if I should make it an oneshot or go on writing. Only a bit of violence... C'mon, Gin and Shuu? If I write more chapters that might change.


Shortly past one AM, pitch black winter night, heavy snow - Shuichi Akai went out for hunting. And it wasn't only the preferred weather that distinguished him from the usual hunter - other than the one who wanted to take the dead deer home with him, afterwards - Shuichi went out with the intention to let his deer, that was more like a large black bear, get away.

_Once again, _he thought, once again they'd meet up to play a violent game for one night, only to let each other get away in the end. It would be a night about life or death, if one of the two died, the game would end, the survivor would stand as the winner. But then again, they were both still alive, close on each other's heels, keeping the game hot and dangerous, and they wouldn't let it end soon. A world without someone to hunt down would be boring, and that's the only reason neither Shuichi nor his black bear had their place six feet under, _yet_. If you want someone to chase, you're not allowed to catch him, that's all.

He kept his gaze glued to the ground, smirking a little while trying to imagine what to expect tonight. A fist fight probably, but since his beloved bear had evolved far enough to use a gun, he'd have to watch out that it didn't went too far - or start making up _good _excuses for avoiding Jodie and James for at least another month. All streets were deserted, this city was dangerous at night. Creeping along dark alleys, Shuichi still kept his distance from anyone who could possibly be out at this time - kidnappers, other criminals, police, FBI - he didn't want to be followed by anyone. This night's way to the meeting point led him near some fancy club - at least he could hear loud music and voices of probably high school students. He'd have to avoid this street later, only to make sure no one noticed, but then his thoughts were back to the actual danger - not being seen but being killed. Even for him, the weather wasn't perfect, he'd have to be careful not to slip while running - and oh, he would run for his life more than once tonight. Big, bad, black bear might be more powerful than him, but five times slower.

Only a minute later her arrived at the park that had been chosen as tonights meeting point, and after looking around for a few seconds he noticed a black Porsche 356a, standing far away from the last lantern, as if light could burn it. Leaning against it, he saw the black bear, smoking. _A-ha, the evolution had obviously lost and forgotten it's goal a few million years ago and just created whatever came to it's mind - if there was one. _Shuichi smirked slightly and approached said car and it's owner. "Oh, did I make you wait long? I'm _really _sorry, but you know, I'm _terribly _busy." He pronounced some words slightly more than others, because he knew exactly the bear hated it that way. _Tsk, bears those days_.

"Shut up." Gin threw his cigarette away and it disappeared in the snow. He turned to look at the FBI-Agent who had just showed up once again to tease and provoke him through the night, starting the game with tasteless jokes. "You talk way too much, want me to make you shut up, huh?"

"Think you can?" said agent smirked and leaned his back against the car - he loved playing with fire, _or bears_, which was as exciting as it was unhealthy. Jodie shared this love, even though a lower extend that was less dangerous - but also less thrilling. So when he heard and felt a hand slam down on the car's roof just a few millimetres beside his neck, he closed his eyes for a second and then grinned up to the man towering over him. _Yep, pretty tall exemplar, that bear._

Shuichis attention was directed somewhere else a few seconds later, when he hear voices echoing down the narrow alleys. "Why did we chose a place so close to a club, If I _may _ask?"

"You chose it, so ask yourself."

"_Oh?_ Well then I obviously didn't know about that, so let's go somewhere else." If there was one thing he didn't want to happen in those nights, it was getting killed or getting someone involved. And killed. _Well, those were two things, but who cares? _

"No way, if it's your fault, then cope with it." Gin just growled and grabbed Shuichi's shoulder, just in case he wanted to run away. Which was, in fact, what he had planned to do, but now he first had to free himself somehow. The voice was getting louder and louder, obviously a boy singing to himself, probably slightly drunk. That in mind, the agent pushed away and aimed his left leg to kick Gin's arm away - a movement he'd regret a second later, when Gin caught his leg, and he felt the muzzle of a gun pressed agains his thigh.

"Oh, did you think I'd let you leave already?"

Gin gave him an evil grin, but Shuichi didn't see it, his eyes had caught the shadow of the boy singing - probably a high school student - and he would surely see them too. The next thing he registered was the noise of a gunshot and how the boy stopped singing, now looking around, confused. The agent tried to tear his eyes from the student - maybe Gin wouldn'd notice him, if he just turned around and ran back, but it was too late.

"What are you looking at?" Gin turned and followed the smaller man's gaze, noticing the third person. "So a rat found it's way here? I'll take care of that one."

He let the agent go, who, much to his own surprise, dropped on the ground. It was only then, his mind combined Gin's gun with the heard shot and his eyes fell down to his left thigh, where his originally grey jeans was slowly turning red. Shuichi gritted his teeth in annoyance, the night started great, and with the boy here, it could only get better.

But then again the boy hadseen them just now, and Gin didn't hurry to get over to him, so there was a chance for him to get away alive. Shuichi put a lot of effort in getting back up, then just started running, pushing the taller man to the side to win a bit of advance on his way. Once he reached the younger male, he grabbed his wrist and started dragging him back to the club, following the voices. From the boy's expression his mind, too, had finally realized what he had seen right now - but then again, he was pretty drunk and would probably think it was a dream, when he woke up the next morning. And it was _when _not _if, _because this was, again, a strange kind of contest, whether the boy would live or die, and he wasn't going to lose.

The agent let him go when they got near the club, not slowing down, since now, that everything went terribly wrong already, he could just keep running and try again another time. So it was a task of 'getting away as far and as fast you can' with an injured leg. Though he found a short stop to be worthy, since he could use it for tearing a bit fabric from his pants and bandage the wound before he continued running.

Now there was the next problem, how to treat the wound? If he went to a hospital, he'd have to explain his situation, something he really didn't want to do now. Since the bullet went right through, he'd probably be fine with disinfectant and bandages, but getting them was a tough task, all shops were closed. So for now he ran and ran, until he found himself in a calmer district. It was a miracle he'd managed to run all the way, but now he slipped because of a puddle of ice, and since his injured leg couldn't bear all the weight alone it just gave in, causing him to perform a not very gracious crash into the snow. Shuichi groaned and rolled onto his back, looking up at the sky and the snowflakes that would probably keep falling for another week, or two. His head hurt and he was dizzy, though he didn't know whether it was from the crash or from running for so long. His lungs were burning - that was definitely caused by the running - and his leg was killing him, thanks to Gin. Looking around a bit he recognized the street to be the one where this man, Mori, had his detective agency, also where this little boy lived. The little boy that was so... _Not like a little boy. _And also the street where they had met up - well more or less, since he had been on a building 700 yards away - and he had let them get away.

All the same street, and here he was. _Thank you, irony, I love you, too._

When he tilted his head a bit more, said detective agency came into view and he noticed that the front door to the staircase was slightly opened. He sat up slowly and then pullet himself up the railing the divided sidewalk from main road. Now that he had stopped the senseless running (that had actually been fun, but was no more) everything seemed so much more painful and heavy. Since all lights were out in this street - his clock told him it was around 2 AM - it seemed safe to enter the staircase and sit down on the stairs to think about what to do next. It was considerably warmer inside, mainly because wind and snow were kept outside. It felt nice, but he couldn't stay long, because like this the wound would get infected, and that was never nice. But then again, from how he felt so much weaker than before, it probably already was - _it's_ _not like an infection waits forever_.

Another thing was, that he was getting sleepy by sitting there, and he couldn't fall asleep now and here, where someone would find him for sure. So he forced his body to get up, once again, and go back out into the merciless cold. He left the door a bit open - there surely was a purpose in not closing it completely - and slowly made his way down the street, more staggering than walking, actually. Somewhere in his mind, he remembered about that girl that once was Sherry, and how she was living with that old man, in a house that probably could be used as a laboratory and wasn't far from here. He was sure that he'd find a first-aid kit there, and that was reason enough to search for said house.

It took him longer than necessary, but he eventually entered the garden and glanced inside through a window. He was lucky, the owners of this house seemed to be sleeping, too. Opening a window wasn't a problem, so after that was done he took off his shoes (else they'd probably find a pond in their house the next morning) and fortunately he didn't have to search long - he found the kit on the wall near the stairs, took what he needed and left the house as quietly as he had come in. If everything went well, they'd find out something was missing around weeks later - or never, if they forgot about it and nothing happened. He couldn't close the window from the outside, but he just shrugged it off, they'd probably just say the old man forgot it in the evening.

He quietly walked back to the street, the footprints he had left before were already covered by a new layer of snow and had disappeared completely. He walked down a narrow alleyway and decided to stay at a place where warm air escaped through a small hatch. He sat down besides it, and started ripping away the bloody fabric that had been serving as bandages until now. He hesitated a moment before pouring the disinfectant on the wound and waiting for it to seep through. Needless to say, that didn't exactly feel nice, so he tried his best to breathe calmly, which wasn't an easy task either, since breathing hurt, too. After he had finished cleaning the wound, he first ripped more of the fabric around it away and then bandaged it up more properly than he'd done before.

With a sigh he noted that that surely was the lat thing he'd do tonight, from now on his body refused to move any further. He looked up, leaning with his back against a wall, snow still falling endlessly. He'd probably be covered in snow by the time he woke up, and he didn't even consider the possibility of not waking up anymore. It didn't even take one minute until he was lying on his side in the snow, injured and unconscious, but satisfied nonetheless.

_AN: I don't know whether I want it to stay an oneshot, or if I'm going to write two or three chapters... Tell me what you think. (Also there could be slightly confusing parts in this chapter, because I was listening to music while writing, and "Candyman" doesn't fit this story very much...)_


End file.
